


November 26th

by westofwords



Category: Dogfight (1991)
Genre: Brief mentions of war, F/M, Post canon, and it's his birthday (almost), rose's late night thoughts abt eddie, slight angst mostly fluff, the silly hets are silly and somewhat sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:07:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27732760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westofwords/pseuds/westofwords
Summary: Eddie's birthday was less than half an hour away. It was his first one since being home. Quite honestly, she was nervous to even say anything about it.
Relationships: Eddie Birdlace/Rose Fenny
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	November 26th

Rose wasn't the type to stay up late.

Recently, she'd started opening the diner earlier so people heading to work could stop in for a cup of coffee and something to eat, which meant she had to be getting up earlier as well. Her staying up late didn't help anyone.

But some nights, like tonight, she couldn't help it.

Eddie's birthday was less than half an hour away. It was his first one since being home. Quite honestly, she was nervous to even say anything about it. She could only assume that the ones he "celebrated" over the past three years were less than desirable. He didn't talk about anything that happened much. Well, compared to before, he didn't talk much at all.

It wasn't hard to see how much he was hurting, even if he was still too stubborn to openly admit it. But she'd always been pretty good at reading people. Eddie thought he was good at hiding how he felt. He thought that asking for help equated with him being weak. But he was trying, she could see that. It'd only been a few months since he got back. The wounds were still fresh open. He was doing his best.

There weren't good days and bad days. That was too vague. There were good moments and there were bad moments. Plenty of bad. Plenty of times she would be cleaning up the restaurant, having a light hearted conversation while he sat and watched, occasionally offering to help. And then she would realize the radio was still on. And it'd rattle a count of how many casualties or how many missing or how many more were deployed.

She would try to turn it off before he heard, but he always heard. No matter how good the moment before was, he'd shut down, and refuse to talk or listen. She learned quickly the best course of action was silent empathy. Trying to carry on as if nothing happened was one sided and pointless. She would stand, and hold his hand, and be quiet, and let it simmer for a few minutes. He wouldn't talk but he'd stare, and grip her hand, and clench his jaw. 

She felt so useless when this happened. No matter what, there always seemed like something she wasn't doing or wasn't doing right. And she knew he felt the same way. Rose was well aware he held the burden of what happened across the world for those three years. He watched people he loved die. She didn't know for sure, but maybe he even killed people, too. The thought made her sick.

But, more than that, she knew he still held so much grief for what happened before he was shipped out. The dogfight still weighed heavily on both their minds, even though Rose had long since stopped harboring any hate towards him because of it.

Even without words, a strong contrast to the never ending stream of them the night of, he made it so clear how sorry he was. Rose wished anything she said would ever actually convince him that she had forgiven him.

There were bad moments, yes. Lots and lots of them, every day. But that didn't mean the good wasn't there at all.

He helped around the diner and seemed to enjoy doing it. That was good. And he liked hearing her play her guitar. Sometimes he'd ask her to, but mostly he would just sit by and watch as she practiced. Sometimes she could even see him smiling when he thought she wasn't looking. That was beyond good. That was wonderful. 

And then times like this, when he was asleep before her. 

He didn't sleep much, or well. She had found out rather quickly that, for whatever reason, if he wasn't with her he hardly slept at all. Not that she minded. The bed was small, but she liked feeling him so close. When they were together, they both slept well. Mostly.

Good moments and bad moments happened when they were asleep too. Rose knew he had nightmares and she knew better than to ask or draw attention to them. That was another fast way to get him to close off. Some nights were worse than others. She did her best to try and comfort him without him fully knowing that's what she was trying to do. It usually worked to some extent.

Tonight was a good moment. In fact, the entire day had been full of surprisingly good moments. She'd even go as far as to classify the entire day as good day. She had managed to drag Eddie out early that morning to go to the store with her. He complained plenty, but it was obvious he didn't mind too much. On the way back, a lady walking her dog stopped to talk to Rose about something, having recognized her from a couple showcases at various music clubs. While they were talking, she noticed Eddie making pretty good friends with the dog. They both seemed really, really happy. It put him in a good mood for the rest of the walk back. 

He helped out around the restaurant, keeping things clean and such. They went on another walk that night. Stopped somewhere for dinner. She played some when they got home and he listened. It was good. They were happy.

Technically, they went to bed an hour ago. She still had yet to fully fall asleep.

Eddie had, surprisingly fast. She wasn't sure how, especially given the size of the bed, but he insisted the most comfortable position was when he had his head on her lap. The rest of his body either had to be curled up tight, or dangle half off the bed. But, it helped him sleep. Rose wouldn't complain about that. 

The lampost outside her window mixed with the moonlight and peeked in through her half closed curtains. The light was faint and pale, but it was enough. He looked so much happier when he was asleep. Well, maybe happy was a stretch. He looked like himself. Like the almost-19-year-old boy she met years ago. His hair was a little longer now, face a little more mature, and despite how relatively skinny he was back then, he'd lost even more weight. He looked peaceful. 

Rose couldn't help a small smile as she watched him. No matter how tired she was, she could always stay up for hours more like this.

Lying there, playing with his hair, she lost track of time. At some point, she began dozing off, but a head bob ended up with her startling herself back away. Finally, she looked over at the clock, squinting to make out the hands. 

November 26th. 12:13am. 

A smile returned to Rose's face. Another year. With all that he'd been through, still being here was a miracle in itself. When morning came, she'd be careful about the subject. She would test the waters and see how touchy the birthday really was. But right now, it was just her. Right now there was nothing to lose. 

Carefully, as not to wake him, she leaned over. Rose brushed the hair from his forehead, kissing it lightly and lingering for a moment. It would take a long time. They'd have plenty more good moments and plenty more bad moments. But they had each other. And, through all the good and all the bad, that was enough. 

For good measure, she kissed him once more. 

"Happy birthday, Jarhead."


End file.
